


Sink With Me

by LoveLadyBLove



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 08:25:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3283595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveLadyBLove/pseuds/LoveLadyBLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Future AU. Rhett has driven away his family and friends and taken refuge in a bottle. Link is the only one he has left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sink With Me

**Author's Note:**

> No disrespect intended, I have only love for these fellas. It's all lies I made up in my head.

**Sink With Me**

_When did everything get so irrevocably fucked up?_

Rhett didn’t know where to start. It happened like a mudslide— a few drops of rain, then a shower, and before he knew it the sky was falling. He couldn’t get back to solid ground and couldn’t even say when he felt the first seemingly innocuous drop of rain on his head. The major turning point had been Jessie leaving, of course. There was no going back to the way things were once she had shut him out and moved back home. But that wasn’t the beginning, and certainly not the end either.

Now here he was in some second hand (third hand, let’s be honest) camper in Inglewood, living in 500 square feet of wood panelling, peeling walls, and shabby 1970s upholstery that had been bleached pale by the years of sun. He couldn’t stand the sight of the place. He missed his wife. He missed all of it— the meticulously selected throw pillows, the annoyingly tidy groupings of magazines on side tables, and the little scented candles Jessie seemingly had an endless supply of. And the boys. He missed his boys. No more early Saturday morning wake ups, no more Guy Time, no more Nerf darts scattered over the floor. The boys were too old for Nerf now, and Rhett suspected their interests had turned from war games to cars and girls. He was missing it, in every sense of the word.

All gone, back to North Carolina and away from him.

He didn’t blame her, not really. Sometimes when he got drunk he would list a few expletives before and after her name, calling her all the things drunk white trash men called their ex-wives, but he didn’t mean them. He blamed himself and he knew that was the proper allocation.

There had been a series of women since she left. A sizeable series, actually. He had never had a tough time finding a woman who would laugh at his jokes and marvel at his height. Some were too young for him, and some were only for a night at a time, but there had been a few good women in there too. Too good for him, as it turned out. It’s the same story as always: a good girl trying to “fix” him. That has been his and Jessie’s story. It had just lasted longer, playing out over a couple decades rather than a few months. She had always been the best part of him.

_Well, maybe the second best._

Link still came to see Rhett on occasion. He never called beforehand, he would just show up with some food and Rhett’s guitar. Rhett had pawned it a year or so ago, looking for some quick cash, and Link had brought it back to him without a word. Rhett had no idea how Link had known where to find it or even that he had sold it. Rhett refused to take it back. As far as he was concerned it was Link’s guitar now. He had no use for it anymore. So the instruments lived in Link’s car, pushed up into the hatchback, waiting for the day every two weeks or so it got to spend in the familiar hands of its true owner.

Link was doing well for himself. He had some sort of creative consultant gig, working with many of the same people they had worked with back when he had been half of a duo. After Jessie had left, things had taken a turn quickly. Rhett was a sinking ship— ruining sponsorships and burning bridges— and Link still had his own family to think about. Rhett had no doubt that untethering from him was the hardest thing Link has ever done. Rhett had been glad for it; it took the pressure off.

Nowadays, there was no pressure. There wasn’t much of anything besides the fuzzy, soft-edged life of lots of booze, and the spinning, teetering feeling that nothing was quite real. He prefered it this way. No need to remember all the people he let down and the life he used to have.

Rhett was staring into a half empty bottle of Jameson whisky, watching the sunlight dapple through the glass, when he heard a knock. It startled him; he usually heard a car before someone could get to the door. He realized that he was a bit farther gone than he usually was in the afternoons. His heavy blackout drinking was more night time entertainment.

He lurched towards the door, navigating the trailer cautiously. It was one long hall with a fold-out couch on one end and a ridiculously tiny bathroom on the other, a galley kitchen and “dining room” in between. The dining room was a fold-down table over two wooden benches. He didn’t often dine— he often drank there to break the monotony of drinking in bed. Such a large man in such a small space might have been comical if it wasn’t so sad. He practically had to bend his 6’7” frame in half to reach down the few steps to the screen door. He pushed it open and the flimsy aluminum knocked loudly against the side of the trailer with a high metallic whine. Sunlight filtered into the gloom and Rhett had to squint to see the person standing there.

“Hey man,” Link said. He gave a wan smile and indicated what was in his hands— a large greasy sack in one and the neck of Rhett’s guitar in the other.

“Hey brother.” Rhett was already moving away from the door back into the trailer. Formalities were no longer needed between the two of them. Link followed him inside, ducking his own over-six-foot form to clear the door, and reached with his free hand to shut it behind him. He hesitated, taking in the scene inside. The place was a wreck, even by what Link had come to accept as his friend’s new normal. Clothes, cans, bottles, and other debris littered the carpet and the bed was a tangle of sweaty, sour sheets. Link let out out a breath, a sigh that might have been imperceptible to anyone other than Rhett.

Rhett slumped into one of the benches in the kitchen. “Not my best day, I know.”

Link nodded and purposely left the door open. “Let’s get some air in here.”

Rhett smiled on one side of his mouth as Link sat down on the bench across from him. “You want to do some laundry too?” Rhett’s voice was dusky from lack of use and he cleared his throat. He wondered how many days it had been since he had spoken to anyone at all.

“I might,” Link said seriously. “If you’d put on a shirt.”

“I respectfully decline,” Rhett replied as Link opened the crumpled paper bag he had brought with him. The grease had soaked through the bottom of the bag and Rhett’s stomach began to rumble at the smell. He hadn’t eaten all day. Link handed him a burger and Rhett took it wordlessly. He ate quickly, chomping into the sandwich eagerly. After a few bites Rhett felt Link’s blue eyes on him and he felt his cheeks redden. He forced himself to slow down.

They ate in comfortable silence, Link’s meticulous way of chewing and swallowing the only noise. Rhett watched him absentmindedly as he washed his food down with a swig of Jameson. Link’s sharp adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the beginning of a five o’clock shadow blooming across his cheeks and jaw. He had let his hair grow out recently and it curled slightly behind his ears and back of his neck. It reminded Rhett of a time before all this, back in North Carolina, when things had just been starting out. When things had been fun.

Link looked good, Rhett decided. He looked like a man with a wife and kids. A man who was loved. Rhett was jealous.

Link dabbed his mouth and fingers with a napkin and sipped his soda. He hadn’t brought one for Rhett. He knew what Rhett would be drinking.

“So how’s it going?” Link asked, leaning away from the table to make room for his full belly.

Rhett shrugged and took another long pull from the bottle. He was already halfway there and he saw no reason not to go all the way to full fledged drunk today. Usually Link’s visits cheered him and made things seem a bit brighter. Today Rhett realized he just wanted him gone. Link waited patiently for his friend to reply, slurping loudly on his straw and rattling the ice cubes at the bottom of his wax cup.

“Fine,” Rhett said at last, turning himself on the bench so he could lean himself against the wall. He stretched out his long legs and they hung off the bench, almost touching the stove on the opposite wall. He snorted and wiggled his toes, trying to hit the dish towel hung on the stove door. Rhett shook his head. “Should have gone with a double wide.”

“How are the kids? Jessie?”

Rhett’s smile dropped. “Fine.” He balled up his sandwich wrapper and tossed it from hand to hand. “Locke called last week. Everything’s fine.”

“Did you talk to her?”

Rhett tossed the paper ball into the empty sack sitting on the table and was surprised he didn’t miss. “No.”

Link nodded slowly, letting his eyes get a better look at the place now that his appetite was sated. Sunlight streamed in from windows above the table, the sun bleached curtains doing little to filter the light. Tiny dust specs sparkled around them, flitting in and out of the light on an invisible breeze neither of them could feel. It was stifling inside and Rhett knew that Link was glad he’d left the door open. Rhett couldn’t smell it anymore but he knew that the scent of old sweat and alcohol permeated the place.

“She still won’t talk to me,” Rhett explained, trying to draw Link’s attention to something besides the condition of his quarters. “She’s been gone for a year and she still won’t say a word to me.”

“Christy says she’s doing okay.” Link gave him a furtive look from behind his black glasses, then pushed them farther up the bridge of his nose. “She’s, ah, better.”

Rhett stared at him blankly. “‘Better’? What does ‘better’ mean?”

“I don’t know, man.” Link tapped the bottom of his cup on the table, shaking the ice again. “It’s just what Christy said.”

Rhett fixed an intense gaze on Link’s face, leaning in. Anger was suddenly burning in his chest. “‘Better.’ I wish I was ‘better.’ Maybe I could be, if she’d ever decide to give me a fucking chance.” Link blinked at his friend’s words and Rhett snatched the neck of the bottle, tilting it into his mouth and taking several mouthfuls as he enjoy the pained look on Link’s tight face. It hardly burned at all on the way down.

Link looked away. “Why don’t you come home with me? Stay with us for awhile. It might do you some good to get away from this place for a few weeks.”

Rhett shook his head slowly, eyes shut tight, still pulling from the bottle. The humiliation did burn. He finally lowered his drink with a shiver, savoring the traces of oak on his tongue. “That’s just what Christy wants. And the kids, too. I’m sure Lincoln and Lily would love to show off their drunk creepy uncle in the basement to all their friends.” He ran a hand through his tousled blond hair self consciously. “All those teenage girls would just love me.”

Link’s jaw tightened and he looked out the window pointedly. “I don’t think—”

“Let me see that,” Rhett interrupted and grabbed at the guitar Link had beside him, easily grasping the neck with his long reach. Link didn’t push the subject and Rhett was grateful as Link helped to guide the instrument across to him.

Rhett lifted a knee from his languid position and rested the guitar across one denim-clad thigh. He tuned with one eye, the other rolling back to the nearly empty bottle. His limbs were loose and his fingers moved lazier than he would have liked. He tried to focus on the sounds as he twisted the knobs and plucked the strings, finding the proper notes. It wasn’t so familiar anymore and the booze wasn’t helping.

Link busied himself clearing the table, tossing his wrapper and cup into the sack. As he stood to throw it all away he casually grabbed the bottle as well. Rhett’s hand shot out and snatched Link’s wrist mid air.

“Not done with that buddy.”

Their eyes locked. Rhett grinned wolfishly and tightened his grip, guiding the drink back to his side of the table. The edges of Link’s wide mouth turned down and he allowed Rhett to take it. Rhett watched him closely as Link navigated the narrow space, making his way towards the overflowing trash. Rhett always noticed the careful, graceful way his friend moved— like he was tight and ready to spring at any moment.

Link, always so clean, washed his hands at the tiny sink, shaking off the excess water and giving Rhett a curious glance. Rhett nodded his head to the stove as he continued to tune, and Link found the dish rag laying there. He dried his hands quickly and efficiently.

They never needed a lot of words when they were together.

“I feel like I should remember more of these chords,” Rhett confessed as Link settled back into his seat.

“I’m sure you’d be better if you hadn’t finished off most of that bottle today.”

Rhett smiled drunkenly. “How do you know how much I drank today?”

“It’s not that hard to tell.” Link placed both forearms on the table and leaned forward, bunching his shoulders up around his neck. “You usually stick to beer during the day.”

Rhett shrugged and played an awkward G chord. “Just one of those days I guess.”

“Could this be a shirt day?”

Rhett stopped playing and glanced up to see a tiny smile on Link’s face. “Does my manhood make you uncomfortable?” Rhett teased, Link’s smile spreading onto his own face.

“Shirts have been shown to make wearers look ten times more sober,” Link suggested helpfully.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Maybe.” Link adjusted his glasses again, his grin beginning to show teeth.

“I probably deserve it.” They were both smiling openly now. “What, you want coat and tails? This is just comfort, man.”

“Four o’clock on a Tuesday….” Rhett sang suddenly, fingers tripping clumsily over the strings as he launched into an improvised songs.  “Drunk and lonesome and shirtless again….” He started laughing, trying to hold a note then gave up as the giggles overtook him. The smooth wood of the guitar pressed into the hot skin of his stomach, sticking there as he laughed. The alcohol was really hitting him now. “I used to be so good at this.”

“You still got it. Just a little rusty.” Their grins gradually left their faces and Rhett continued to strum a few more hesitant bars. Link hummed along softly, watching Rhett’s fingers.

“We should start a blues band,” Rhett muttered to himself, running his hands far down the neck to create a high twanged pitch. “I could sing about that a little.”

They sat together as the sun started to slowly set. Between small sips Rhett continued to play, pulling long forgotten tunes out of some recess in his memory. When he couldn’t quite remember the melody Link would sink out a few words to get him back on track again. When Rhett finally drained the last of Jameson he couldn’t keep a tune anymore. His fingers were blessedly, pleasantly, numb. The numbness on the inside was why he drank— it just happened to be an unfortunate side effects that the loss of his talents went with it.

_It was worth it._

Link kindly took the guitar out of Rhett’s hands and sat it in his own lap. Rhett slumped further in his seat, still clutching the empty bottle and listening with eyes half closed to Link’s awkward, forced chords. To Rhett they sounded like a lullaby. The shadows in the trailer grew longer as the day grew later. Somewhere in the back of Rhett’s mind he wondered if Link had to leave soon, back to his family, and a thought surprised a flood of sorrow through him. He didn’t want to be alone.

As if reading his thoughts, Link’s playing stopped. “I should get g—”

“Stay.” Rhett’s hand reached across and groped for Link’s drunkenly. “Play more.” From behind his lowered eyelids Rhett saw Link bow his head and sigh, another small exhalation that only Rhett would have been able to see. Link then nodded a little, maybe only to himself, and patted Rhett’s hand awkwardly.

“Okay.”

Link continued to strum, picking up where he has left off. He has never really learned to play. It has been Rhett’s instrument for as long as both of them could remember. Rhett closed his eyes and hummed along anyways, lolling his head back and forth against the wall with the music. It made the world spin.

Rhett had no idea how much time had passed before Link stopped playing again. He was afraid he might have even dozed off. Link didn’t announce his intentions to leave this time, he simply stopped playing and turned to Rhett with a level gaze.

“Don’t go.”

For a second Rhett was confused on who had spoken before he realized that it was him. Disgust welled inside him at the thought that the whining plea and pathetic whisper had come from his lips. He bent both knees towards his chest and brought his hands to his face, pressing his palms hard against his eyelids to make the colors dance behind them.

_I can’t see you if you can’t see me._

Link said nothing. Rhett’s hands moved into his hair and his elbows rested on his knees as he hung his head, staring into his lap. His vision blurred and he told himself it was the booze. He focused on his breath until the feeling passed.

Link finally spoke, his voice soft and soothing. “Come with me, Rhett. Let’s go back to my place.”

Rhett shook his head defiantly. “I can’t.”

“Sure you can.”

“No, Link, I can’t.” His words were starting to slur. He reached for his drink again and brought it to his lips before he realized it was empty. “I don’t belong there. You keep trying to bring me back to this perfect old life and it’s not mine anymore… I don’t deserve it.”

Link’s lips pursed as he listened, jaw clenched. Rhett could feel Link’s frustration radiating from across the narrow space.

“I don’t deserve it,” Rhett repeated, quieter. “Are you sure you do?”

Link’s brows knitted, spurring Rhett on. Bitterness was rising like bile in Rhett’s throat and the words were coming out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Perfect Link and his perfect family trying to rescue this damaged soul. You think you’ve got it all figured out again.” Rhett laughed, a mirthless noise that shook his whole body.

“You belong here with me. Do you remember…..” Rhett was still smiling, staring at the ceiling with a glazed look in his eyes. He was letting himself go now, saying what he knew he should not. Part of him didn’t want to go here but the other part, that drunken excuse for a man, was screaming to get its claws into Link. “Do you remember the first time we ever got drunk?”

The air changed with those words. Link became stone, his face hard in a moment, shooting clear blue daggers.

“Good ol’ Jimmy Capps and his Jack Daniels. He always had plenty laying around for the taking,” Rhett remembered. Sense memory took Rhett over and he could taste the wet dog tang of that Tennessee whiskey and the way it burned like coals in his belly. Link’s wide, dilated eyes. “We got so drunk you let me suck your dick.”

Rhett felt a swell in his groin remembering it. The base, earthy taste of his best friend’s come and the hot sticky mess Rhett had made across his belly as he swallowed it. “Two fifteen year olds who couldn’t get a girl to touch them to save their lives and all it took was a few shots before we decided to try for ourselves. And we went on like it never happened. Never talked about it, never mentioned it, just went on like we hadn’t spent a night like a couple of faggots groping and holding each other’s dicks.”

Link shot up from his seat and without a word he made for the door. Rhett was certain if Link made it there Rhett would never see him again. Rhett rose and intercepted Link quickly, blocking the narrow galley with speed that surprised them both. Rhett didn’t feel unsteady at all. He felt wired.

Link took a step back to avoid barreling into him. His eyes narrowed and darted between the door and Rhett’s face. Rhett knew his friend’s mind was racing, trying to formulate an escape route that didn’t involve touching the taller man. Link’s breath was short and fast and the color was rising in his cheeks. The anger was coming and Rhett welcomed it.

“Get out of my way.” Link’s voice was rising.

Rhett knew that Link’s temper far surpassed his own. He had seen Link lose it before and Rhett was pushing him. “No.” Rhett walked forward, his bare chest heaving with adrenaline, daring Link to back up.

“What the fuck is  _wrong_ with you?”

Hearing that expletive from Link’s lips fed something primal inside Rhett. He surged forward in a rush of movement, surprising the other man. Link tried to move backwards but got tangled in his own feet as Rhett grabbed his wrists and spun both their bodies, pressing Link hard against the cool aluminum of the refrigerator door. The back of Link’s head bounced loudly against the freezer and he cursed again.

Link tried to push off the refrigerator and towards the trailer door but Rhett pinned him. Rhett had to lean all his weight into him to keep Link in place, his struggles straining the muscles in Rhett’s shoulders. He knew Link was scrappy but he had always been stronger. The alcohol coursing through his body was making him reckless and he didn’t care if he hurt Link. “Something’s fucking wrong with me, isn’t there? There’s some reason I’m in this shitty trailer and you’re not.”

“Get off of me!” Link’s voice was strained and his face was a mask of anger and confusion, eyes wild behind the black rims of his glasses. His mouth was open and gasping for breath.

“No,” Rhett was shouting now, crushing his body against Link’s. He was in Link’s face, their noses inches apart. “What the fuck is wrong with me that isn’t wrong with you? So I fucked that girl, that little fucking slut that looked five years older than she was, and Jessie found out. Now I’m all alone and you get to keep your happy family and career, and then you come over here like you’re doing me a favor. You’re not! You’re not. All it does is remind me of how much I lost.”

Link looked like he had been slapped and he stopped fighting. Rhett took advantage and brought his body even closer. “I’m a fuck up, I always have been,” Rhett continued. “I just got good at pretending. We’re brothers, always have been. How much longer can you pretend?”

Link’s brows were a knit of lines and creases as he grew more uncomfortable with the body of another man pressed into him like this. The anger in Rhett’s chest began to fade away and a new, more troubling feeling began to seep in. His heart pounded in his ears and he felt himself growing hard, remembering how he had felt that night decades ago. Link’s hands in his hair, pulling and pushing, taking control. Making Rhett move the way he wanted him too. A helpless, intoxicating feeling of being someone else’s thing.

The thought of being someone besides himself was what spurred him on. The alcohol was working its way through him, crashing past any kind of restraint or shame. “Why don’t you have a little fun with me, brother?” Almost on their own, Rhett’s hips arched into Link sensually. He brought his lips a few inches closer to Link’s ear and breathed. “Let me do it again.”

Link didn’t speak or move. The only indication of life was his heaving chest and rasping breath. Rhett leaned back to watch him, still holding him down firmly. Link’s face was blank and unseeing, eyes fixed somewhere over Rhett’s left shoulder. The blonde watched Link’s pulse flutter wildly at his neck and marveled at the smooth, olive skin that disappeared beneath the collar of his tee. He could smell the other man clearly, a heady mix of sweat and deodorant and beneath that the slightest hint of sharp, acidic fear.

Before Rhett knew what he was doing, he found himself dipping his head to taste him. He was biting, teeth scraping gently against Link’s earlobe then the curved top, feeling the strong cartilage between his teeth. “It wasn’t so bad…” he purred. “You’ll like it, just like before.”

Link shuddered beneath him and Rhett wasn’t sure if it was fear or arousal. Rhett buried his face into the side of Link’s neck and writhed into his rigid body. The memories were flashing in his mind— Link’s eyes so wide they looked black, his firm grip at the back of Rhett’s neck. The way Link had exploded in his mouth without permission or warning. “I want to suck your cock,” Rhett whispered into his skin. He laughed bitterly and without mirth. “I want to show you how fucked up I really am.”

Rhett’s hips were still moving involuntarily, his tight jeans becoming even tighter. Link’s stillness was only broken by the movement of his neck as he turned his face away from Rhett. That small gesture caused an ache in Rhett’s heart he couldn’t have explained if he had tried.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t like it.” The anger was coming back to join lust in a tangle of emotions. Rhett squeezed Link’s arms harder, still holding him down, Rhett’s large hands easily circling Link’s slim wrists. “Did you forget how hard you came? I didn’t. You nearly choked me with your come shot.”  

Link refused to move and that terrible, pleading tone snuck its way into Rhett’s voice. “Please,” Rhett whispered, voice thick and rough in his throat. His forehead was on Link’s shoulder, back hunched down, not wanting to see the disgust on the other man’s face. “Please… put me to use. Let me make you feel good.”

Rhett realized that he was fighting tears. The emptiness inside him was a chasm, and he didn’t want to look at it. He didn’t want to fill it with more whiskey and beer and women, things that didn’t even begin to fill the hole inside. The only things that had ever come close— his wife, his boys, his work, his family-- were gone. He didn’t want to be Rhett James McLaughlin anymore.

“Don’t reject me too, Link.”

It might have been the sound of his own name that made Link begin to crumble. Rhett felt the body underneath him slowly begin to unwind as Link’s shoulders dropped down from around his ears. He stopped straining against Rhett’s grip. Rhett didn’t dare to look up and risk breaking the spell that had been cast. He hesitantly released Link’s wrists and the other man did not move.

Rhett slid his hands down Link’s long slim body and settled them at his narrow waist. He tilted his face and dared to give a single, light kiss to the column of Link’s neck. When Link didn’t react, Rhett’s tongue began to explore. He traced the delicate curves of Link’s ear, his breath tickling the sensitive skin there. Link was breathing faster now and Rhett’s could see the muscles of Link’s neck smoothing back into the skin as he relaxed a little more.

_Resigned._

Rhett pushed that thought aside and snuck his tongue inside Link’s ear. His reaction was immediate. Link let out a small gasp of pleasure and his hips bucked. Out of the corner of his eyes, Rhett saw him lick his lips. Encouraged, the blonde kissed his way down the other man’s jaw line and he felt a detached curiosity at the sandpaper roughness of a five o’clock shadow on his lips.

Rhett’s need to be gentle was fading. His mouth opened and his white, blunt teeth nibbled at Link’s skin. The facial hair felt even more foreign on his tongue and it spurred him on. Rhett’s lips finally arrived at Link’s and the blonde didn’t wait or proceed slowly. He grasped the brunette’s face and attacked his mouth. He forced his tongue inside, desperately seeking contact. He felt Link pull back but Rhett followed him, insisting. His fingers dug into Link’s hips, grinding himself against them. Link’s tongue touched Rhett’s tentatively, his actions hesitant and jarred as if he couldn’t believe what his own body was doing.

Link’s reciprocation made every nerve ending in Rhett’s body buzz. He continued to thrust against Link, striving for friction under the layers of denim. Rhett twirled his tongue, dueling with the other man, and then pulled away to bite and lick and suck at any piece of skin his mouth could reach. His hands made their way to the front of Link’s jeans and he felt a growing hardness against his palm. The realization made him grin in a sick triumph.

He sank to his knees in front of Link, impatiently tugging at his belt. He wanted so badly to touch him again. He slid the leather through the buckle and the jangle of the belt seemed to echo in the small tube they were in. He tried to ignore the sight of Link’s hands gripping insistently at the edges of the fridge, refusing to reciprocate his touch.

Rhett opened Link’s button and fly easily and stared at the bulge in front of him. In the back of his mind he thought that if faced with the reality of what was about to happen he would have backed off. Instead, the sight drove him forward. He wanted Link to be as hard as he was— his own erection was digging painfully into the seams of his jeans and begged to be released. Rhett hooked his thumbs into Link’s briefs and pulled the waistband down under Link’s dark, heavy balls.

Rhett stared and the stillness seemed to encapsulate the entire world. The sight of Link’s cock— longer and thicker than his own— made him nervous. A lot had changed in twenty years. Rhett wondered if it would even fit in his mouth and if he was ready to try. He remembered how awkward it had been before— tentative licks and nervous movements, before everything had come apart in a frenzy of limbs and come. He had been so afraid of doing it wrong. Now he knew how. Rhett had his dick sucked by enough women to know how it was done properly. He wondered if Christy, Link’s wife, did this for him or if she was too sweet and proper. He wondered how many girls had been where he was right now, on their knees before Link’s generous hard-on. He felt oddly jealous.

Rhett started with just a breath, exhaling smoothly along Link’s entire length. Link’s member twitched and Rhett glanced up to see that he was not looking down. Link had his face turned away and his eyes shut tight. His dark eyebrows were knitted together like he was in pain.

“Are you pretending?” Rhett asked softly. He ran his large hands up Link’s legs to cup the narrow exposed points of his best friend’s hips. “Are you wishing it was Christy here instead of me?” Rhett knew enough about how Link’s mind worked to know that was exactly what he was doing. Pretending. Rhett squeezed, kneading the tight pale skin underneath his hands hard enough to bruise and brought his lips closer to the organ in front of him. “Pretend all you want. I’m right here.” To solidify his point Rhett rubbed his bearded cheek along Link’s sensitive head. Link gasped in response and Rhett saw his knuckles turn white as they grasped harder at the edges of the cold white surface.

Rhett was done wasting time. He didn’t tease Link with his tongue or lips, he simply took him into his mouth. Immediately they both groaned, Rhett’s moan muffled by Link’s cock sliding along his tongue. Rhett’s erection was becoming painful, stretching against the fabric of his jeans, begging to be touched. He ignored it and drew Link in further. The weight and thickness inside his mouth was foreign but comforting. He twirled his tongue experimentally, getting a feel for the length and size of his friend. Link swore, a soft “fuck” under his breath, and Rhett took it as encouragement. He wrapped his lips around Link’s shaft and created a slow but firm rhythm, bobbing his head to take more and more of him with every movement.

Rhett’s hand moved south across his own belly, dipping under the band of his pants. He had just brushed his harness with his fingertips and he jumped with electric shocks of pleasure. He didn’t think he’d ever been this hard or so frantic to be touched. The desperation felt wonderful. He lowered his zipper and pushed his clothes low around his hips, never stopping or taking his mouth off of Link. Rhett palmed his balls lightly, rolling them in his hands, afraid that if he touched himself directly he might come without warning. He wanted this to last.

Rhett took Link in further, pushing himself forward until the head of the other man brushed the back of Rhett’s throat. Both of their eyes flew open at this new sensation— one in pleasure and one in shock. Rhett’s gag reflex made him draw back and his mouth filled with saliva. He sat back on his heels to catch his breath and saw Link’s blue eyes on him, peering from beneath thick black lashes. Link’s slim chest was heaving, stretching the fabric of his shirt with every breath. Rhett held his gaze, wanting him to watch. Rhett raised his free hand and grasped the brunette by the base of his shaft and began to stroke, feeling the skin slide over the hard meat of him.

_Familiar motions in unfamiliar places._

He saw Link’s eyes flit from Rhett’s eyes to the hand that was pleasuring him, then down to Rhett’s thick cock. Rhett was gripping himself firmly now, sliding up and down each of their lengths in unison and giving a twist of the hand at the head. Rhett held Link’s stare and sunk back down, his height making him bend almost at the waist, and used his tongue to lap gently the the tip of Link’s erection. The salty drops of pre-come coated his tongue and he craved more.

Link moaned out another curse and slammed the back of his head against the refrigerator. The impact shook the entire trailer and he hit it again, harder this time. His eyes were squeezed shut and his entire body was clenched as Rhett took him back into his mouth, now gripping Link’s base firmly. Rhett ground himself down until Link was pressing into the back of his throat and then he pushed himself further. The blond felt his throat fill with the other man, cutting himself off from from air, and he tugged at his own thick length harder. Rhett wanted all of him, every piece he could get. He wanted to drown in Link, in anything that would make it all go away. Anything to make the past few years of his life a terrible dream. Rhett felt Link twitch on his tongue and Rhett swallowed and sucked even harder.

Rhett had to pull back to gain a breath and suddenly Link’s long elegant fingers were tangled in his blonde locks, pushing him back down. Link was thrusting his hips into him, bumping the back of his throat with every thrust. Link’s moans filled the trailer and he had gotten lost in the hot tight mouth surrounding him. Link was at the point where he no longer cared who was on their knees in front of him. The realization was a triumph to Rhett. To be nothing but an empty vessel was what he wanted all along.

Link’s took his hands from the other man’s hair and impatiently shoved his jeans futher down his thighs, puddling them around his knees. Rhett put his hands on Link for leverage, squeezing every inch of flesh revealed. Rhett roughly grasped at his ass, hips, and inner thighs, touching every part he could as he brought himself down again and again on Link’s cock. Then Link’s hands were on the sides of his face, steadying him, and Rhett looked up into his best friend’s eyes. Link’s full lips were parted and his eyes were glazed like they were on the rare occasions Link drank. He kept Rhett’s head in place and he began to thrust forward, carefully studying the way his cock looked sliding in and out of Rhett’s mouth. He drew himself out until just the tip remained inside Rhett’s lips and then came forward again, then back. Each time Rhett hollowed his cheeks, grasping on to as much of Link as he could.

Rhett’s right hand was pumping his own dick so hard he thought he might bruise himself. It was the way Link was staring at him— like they hadn’t know each other for decades or spent the last fifteen years sitting across from one another at a desk. A look that felt like Link hadn’t watched Rhett and their entire lives fall apart in front of him. It was an unrecognizing look that no longer held any disappointment or pity or regret. It was that cold and hard look on Link’s familiar face that sent Rhett over the edge, falling into ecstasy. He groaned around the cock in his mouth, thrusting into his own hand. He came in three strokes, spurting messily across his fingers and naked stomach. He could smell the pungent sex smell of his come even as his nose was pressed into Link’s groin.

The sight and sound of Rhett’s ragged orgasm made Link pick up the pace. He grabbed fistfulls of Rhett’s hair once again and held the man in place as he fucked his mouth ruthlessly. Rhett struggled to breath from his nose as Link drove into him wildy, hips bucking fiercely. With a series of feral grunts Link began to come into Rhett’s waiting mouth. Link fucked through his orgasm, thrusting as each powerful jet of come was swallowed by Rhett. Link pushed himself in as far as he could go, until his taut belly was pressing against Rhett’s forehead and his thighs were flush with Rhett’s naked chest. The brunette shivered as the last drops of come emptied from him into the throat all around him.

Link’s dark hair had fallen across his face and his entire body shone with sweat from the hot damp air. The entire space had been heated by their breath and movement. Rhett could feel its warm weight on his skin as clearly as he could feel Link’s hands on him. Link convulsed one more time as the last wave of his orgasm left him and he pushed Rhett’s head down one final time, grinding Rhett’s sharp nose into the rough, wiry curls of his pubic hair. He let out a deep sigh before releasing Rhett and falling back against the door of the refrigerator drunkenly.

Rhett breathed deeply, catching his breath from the force of his orgasm and the exertion. His mouth was coated with remains of Link. The taller man sat back on his heels, leaning against the benches. He was certain he would be unable to stand. His entire body shook with adrenaline and sex.

Even before Rhett’s pleasant aftershocks had faded, the shame came crashing in. It came even harder and faster than his orgasm. He didn’t want to look at Link. More than anything, he didn’t want to see the disgust and regret and shame he felt towards himself reflected in his oldest friend’s eyes. The reality of what just happened was almost paralyzing. Link. Link, who had always been there for him. Who had never given up on him. Link was the only one left who cared for him. And Rhett had pulled Link right down with him in this downward spiral. Down into cheating on his wife, doing things he had said he’d never do again, down into using Rhett as his thing.

Rhett looked anywhere but up. He saw the dirt in the crevasses of the floor, the hideous orange pattern of the seat cushions in the corner of his eye, and the empty bottle he had been sucking down earlier. He wanted to crawl inside it and never return. The weight of who he was was almost crushing. Rhett silently begged for neither of them to move or speak, as if staying frozen could make it all go away or make it fiction. Some drunken fantasy or nightmare.

But he was a glutton for punishment. He finally looked up at Link. The other man was slowly opening his eyes and they held each other’s gaze for a long moment. Link was the one who moved first, rolling his head back and swallowing, adam’s apple sliding inside his long neck. He hands came up and pushed his sweaty hair from his face, slicking it back in a style that was unfamiliar to Rhett. Link held his head as he stared at the ceiling.

Rhett’s chest ached as he watched him. He knew Link’s brain was churning, working it out, trying to find a place for what had just happened. Finding a place for it to fit. Rhett doubted there was such a place. The blonde opened his mouth in a vain effort to comfort him, without even knowing what he was going to say. Link interrupted before a syllable escaped.

“Don’t talk to me.”

His voice was hard and clipped. That coldness was what had driven Rhett into coming, but now he heard the anger and it stung him like a whip. Without even looking at the man on the floor Link began to collect himself. He quickly pulled his jeans up from around his knees and tucked his still half-hard length inside. He zipped and buttoned quickly.

The trailer was still as they both breathed, waiting. Link opened this mouth and Rhett thought he was going to say something, but Link snapped his mouth shut without saying a word. He shook his head quickly and took a few steps away from Rhett.

Rhett looked down at his stomach, the white droplets of his come shining against the tight, tan skin. He felt sick looking at them. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, still wet with his own saliva and Link’s spendings. Rhett stared at the the wet smudge across his hand and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the black oven door. His lips were swollen and pink from abuse. He wondered if this was what he had looked like twenty years ago, too. Like a whore that had been ridden hard and put away wet.

Link’s eyes were travelling the trailer quickly, never glancing towards the man below him. Link found his car keys, knocked to the ground in their scuffle, and he moved towards them. He was leaving him. Rhett’s arms shot up and grabbed Link’s wrist, wanting to say something— to apologize or to try and make him understand. Anything so Link wouldn’t leave him all alone again.

As Rhett’s fingers wrapped around the brunette’s arm, Link’s fist came from nowhere. It slammed into Rhett’s left cheekbone like a bolt of lightning and Rhett felt his head snap to the right and hit the side of the table.

“And don’t fucking touch me.”

Rhett’s world was spinning. Stars appeared and disappeared at the edges of his vision as he heard the keys rattle when Link bent to retrieve them. When Rhett’s vision cleared a moment later Link was above him. He looked down at Rhett and there was emptiness in his blue eyes. Rhett was silent. He knew there was nothing to say. But he was kind of proud of his friend in that moment— Link had finally punched someone in the face.

Link took a long stride, stepping over Rhett’s half-naked body that blocked the galley. Within a moment he was at the door, poised to leave with one hand on the handle. The darker haired man stopped uncertainly and turned towards Rhett. Cautiously Rhett lifted his head and waited for him.

“I’m not doing this with you.” Link’s voice was steady and his eyes were clear once again, shining blue in the fading sunlight. “If you want to sink straight to the bottom, that’s on you. But don’t drag me down too.”

The screen door whined and slammed, and he was gone.

Rhett began to pick himself up. He used the bench to steady himself as he stood, not trusting his own legs. His eyes were stinging with tears and it made the light bleed everywhere. He stumbled to his feet and gingerly touched his cheek, feeling the swelling. He started to think that he was grateful it hadn’t been Link’s ring finger but changed his mind. He wished he would bleed.

As if on autopilot he reached below the sink and grabbed another bottle. He didn’t care what it was and didn’t even recognize the pure, antiseptic taste of cheap vodka as he drank deeply.

_But Link, I’m so lonely down here._


End file.
